Crush
by Revvvv
Summary: Poor, incompent Neville has a crush on the nasty Potions Master.
1. Five points to Gryffindor

All characters belong solely to J.K. Rowling. I am making no profit off this.

Warning: Slash, do like it don't read, although why you would read a Neville / Snape story and expect het, I have no clue. Enjoy.

"Mr. Longbottom," Professor Snape seethed behind him. Neville jumped, hands freezing of the dried dung beetles. Shit, he had been too involved in watching his dream Snape undress he had neglected to notice the real one stalking up behind him.

"Yes, Professor Snape?" Neville looked firmly down at his ingredients; as much as he loved those fathomless black eyes he couldn't bear to see the contempt in them.

"What exactly are you doing?" Snape began nosily tapping his foot, the loud noise jarring Neville's already scattered thoughts. _What was he doing?_ Besides, of course, day dreaming about things he really had no right to daydream about. Mainly involving a naked Potions teacher, a bubble bath, and some ice cubes. Or maybe some nice chocolate, the kind that was liquid and cooled down almost instantly, so that he could pour it on Snapes… _No! Bad Neville!_ No matter how intoxicating Snape attention was he couldn't afford to dream about Snape until _after_ class.

"I'm waiting, Mr. Longbottom." Neville's hands slowly increased their grip in pure tension, crushing the dung beetle in them. Dung beetles… oh yes that was it.

"I - I'm adding dung beetles to my potion, sir." He stated in a weak rush. "Once added, the dung beetles will provide an energy source to bring out the properties of the eagle feather and increase the potency of my potion." Neville held his breath. His answer was right… he knew it was right! He had been up half the night last night studying with Hermione and Harry. He knew this potion inside and out, and sideways, just for good measure. He was determined to do it. For just _one_ potion, for just _one_ class, Neville was going to get something right. He was going to hand in a perfect assignment, and Snape – Serverus – would smile at him and say he had done well, he would respect Neville.

Or, at least he wouldn't take any points away from Gryffindor. The entire class was holding their breaths in anticipation of Snapes reply. Harry gave Neville a thumbs' up sign. Neville's idol had yet to say anything. Slowly Snapes eyebrows inched upward and then … Snape _nodded_.

"Five points to Gryffindor." Time stood momentarily still as the echoes of such an unprecedented event surged through the room and then the entire class burst out into amazed whispers. Snape had given Gryffindor points. Snape had given Neville points. A euphoric feeling began to fill Neville. For a moment he clenched his lips together, trying to hold in his joy, but soon gave up and smiled so wide he felt like his face was splitting. Nothing could drag him down now! All of the years of toil and embarrassment and humiliation were gone in an instant. Instead of feeling angst and depression, Neville was, Neville was HAPPY. Still soaring with joy, Neville turned around – and promptly knocked over his cauldron.

There was a deadly silence in the room as Snape slowly turned around.

"I should have known. Remove those five points, Mr. Longbottom, and thirty more for insufferable clumsiness."

The Slytherins burst into snickers, and the Gryffindors scowled furiously and Neville just stood there, face burning with humiliation, looking that the wreck that had become his dream. Neville had finally proved that he had some worth to Snape, and now it was completely gone.

"Well Longbottom," snapped Snape. "Clean up that mess. Unless you're too incompetent to even manage that."

Neville looked from Snapes exasperated face to the gobs of his ruined life on the floor. He fled the room.

AN: should this continue as a Neville / Snape or should I turn it into a Neville / Lucius? Thanks to those who review!


	2. Memories and Devils Snare

As can be observed by my meager writing talent, I have absolutely no part in the creation or ownership of the Harry Potter books, and by extension anything within them. The only profit I get from this fic is the lightening of guilt because I am finally writing a fic instead of just reading, and, when the reviews are so kind as to toss me a crumb (yes, a desperate bid for reviews – shameless, aren't I?) a feeling of total ecstasy, all of which leave me with no monetary profit.

And finally, if you are still reading this, this is SLASH. If you don't like it, why the hell did you read past chapter one?

Oh, and sorry it took me so long to update. sheepish grin. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Neville didn't even realize he was running until complete exhaustion forced him to stop. Minute tremors shaking his body, Neville slowly lowered himself to the ground in the middle of the unfamiliar, dark, hallway and buried his face in his knees. Why did things like that always have to happen to him? He wondered desperately. If his Gran was to be believed, it was because he deserved it. Neville was a disgusting, worthless squib of a wizard. Of course Snape would never hold any respect for Neville: the simple fact was, was that Neville didn't deserve Snape's respect, his love… he wondered that the man had even tolerated him in his class this long! But, Neville had thought that Snape was different from everyone else. He was kind, compassionate, and he saw so much more. Mentally banishing the tears that had been threatening his eyes, Neville forced himself to grin at the probable reactions of the student body if they ever heard him think that of the Dreaded, Snarky Professor Snape.

But to Neville, each word was true. Serverus Snape was the most wonderful thing in Neville's life. Attempting to shake off his sudden depression, Neville got up and continued to wander down the hallway, no longer frantically running but dreamily focusing his thoughts on his beloved. Neville knew from painful experience that tears and depression would bring nothing but a horrid stomach ache and a stuffy nose. Besides that, Neville liked to think that his ability to recover from depression and stay constantly optimistic was something that made him the perfect match for Serverus. After all, as much as he adored him, Neville was aware that Serverus was indeed, a snarky bastard. He needed somebody bright and happy to drag him out of his pessimistic snarkiness, and Neville wouldn't be dragged down – for long at least – by Serverus's biting insults. So Neville thought about Snape, his brilliance, his strength, the caressing movements of his hands as he demonstrated the proper procedure for chopping lizards tails… his smile.

Neville had only seen Snape's smile once, but the image was enough to change his entire life.

_**Flashback**_

For once in his life Neville wasn't afraid. Usually he was so self conscience and terrified that he would make a fool of himself that he ended up making even worse a mess than he had feared. But today things were different. _Neville had been accepted into Hogwarts!_ What was more, his Gran has smiled at him, and his Uncle Alfred had clapped him on the back and told Neville that he always knew he could do it. Neville barely repressed his snort at this. Not a single member of his family had ever thought he could do 'it'. It, of course, being anything remotely acceptable. Last night he had even heard his Aunt Gocky suggesting to his Gran that she put him up for adoption in the Muggle world. Clearly he was not suited to wizarding life. However, that didn't matter: today he had been accepted to Hogwarts and for the first time his family approved of him.

"Come boy!" Uncle Alfred roared excitedly. "We're off to Diagon Alley! I'm going to buy you a toad!"

Neville blinked. A toad?

"Don't just sit there and blink boy!" his Gran said sharply. "Thank your Uncle for his generosity – although you do deserve it this time, Hogwarts is one of the best wizarding schools – and let's go! We to get you your school supplies and your precious cousin Bentley needs new robes."

Neville's beautiful day came crashing to a halt. Cousin Bentley. Lovely. That spoiled brat always ruined everything. Whatever precious Bentley wanted, he got. Weather it be Neville's piece of cake at Neville's own birthday or a brand new broom, Bentley was a spoiled, manipulative little brat dotted on by the entire family. Oh well, Bentley hadn't gotten into Hogwarts, Neville had. And even if no one else seemed to notice this fact, it was something for Neville to cling.

"Come on, Neville!" Uncle Alfred shouted, scooping Neville into the air and tossing him out the door with one ham hand. "We've got shopping to do!" Neville had to grin at his Uncle's boisterousness. No, he wouldn't let Bentley ruin this day.

Three hours later Neville had just about tossed that notion into the garbage. Bentley had, yet again, managed to screw up Neville's life in a fascinatingly boring, yet totally usual way. Bentley had demanded ice cream. Bentley had gotten his ice cream. Bentley had then decided he wanted Neville's ice cream. Unfortunately, while reaching to grasp Neville's single scoop of lime flavored honey ice cream, Bentley had startled a cat sleeping under the table, who had clawed his ways up Neville's robe, causing Neville to shriek and his magic to turned the table in front of them into a huge potted cactus, causing both Bentley and Neville to go flying in opposite directions. Neville's family had rushed toward the airborne Bentley, attempting to break his fall, knocking a pot of floo powder into the fire at the exact same moment that Neville went crashing into it. And thus Neville found himself being spewed out of a fireplace into the middle of "Lizards Breath and Serpents Stare". A famously dark potions shop. In Knockturn Alley. Holding a single scoop of lime-flavored honey ice cream. Sometimes, Neville hated his life.

"And just what do we have hear?" A slimy voice intruded upon Neville's daze. Neville looked up to see a spidery old man half glaring, half sneering into his face.

"Ummm, there was an accident," Neville murmured, looking around frantically for an escape. He wished his Gran was here. She was tough, she could take on anything. Neville was just scared.

"An accident, hmmmmmm?" The evil old man gave a gruesome smile in Neville's direction. "Well, this turns out to be my lucky day. Here am I, running low on little boys fingernails, and what but happens, but a little boy drops right into my shop!" Neville gulped in terror. He needed his fingernails! Slowly he began to back away from the creepy old man. There had to be a way out! And then he heard it. The most wonderful, sexy – although he wouldn't realize that fact until years later – voice Neville had ever known.

"Oh, stop teasing him Mr. Hearse, you have more important things to do. Like filling my order for herring livers." The newcomer's sweet voice caused the creepy man to startle and don and entirely new attitude.

"Yes, of course Professor Snape. Right away. It will just take me a moment, I got some in fresh this morning! There are in the back! I'll get them out right away!"

"Then refrain from blathering and get them!" Professor Snape bit out irritably. Then he turned to Neville. "Now boy, where do you come from?" Neville just stared at him. The man had stood up for Neville! Anyone else would have laughed at his distress. Obviously this wasn't a man. He was an angel in disguise.

"Well?" Snape snapped. Neville blushed.

"S-Sorry Sir. I was at Flutties Ice Cream Shop when Bentley scared the cat and …"

"Yes, yes," Snape said impatiently. Then he grabbed some floo powder and through it into the fire stating "Flutties!" and shoving Neville quickly toward the fire. Neville had just enough time to yelp his thanks and shove his ice cream into Snape's hand in gratitude before going into the flames. As he was pulled into the floo network he caught a glimpse of Snape. He was staring at the ice cream in his hand and … smiling. It was a sight Neville would never forget.

**_End Flashback_**

Neville sighed. Unbeknownst to him at the time, he had lost his heart to Professor Snape that day. Brushing his hand against a moss-covered wall, Neville suddenly frowned. Speaking of lost, where was he? He tried to peer down the hallway to find some sort of identifying stature, but it was so dark he couldn't see more than a few feet in front of him. Fighting a feeling of fright Neville determinedly turned around and began to walk the way he had come. He couldn't remember taking any turns… maybe he had gone down some stairs. Neville couldn't remember, he had been too wrapped up in memories to pay attention to where he was going. Oh well, ' you couldn't have wandered too far,' he determinedly told himself. And this is Hogwarts, one of the safest places in the wizarding world. Off to the corner of his eye Neville saw something move. Hoping it was some sort of portrait which could give him directions he moved toward it. And then realized that this was no portrait, but a deadly plant, "Devils Snare."

"HELP!" he screamed as the plants tendrils grasped at his body, causing his wand to fly uselessly to the floor.


	3. Inside the Twistedness of Snape

Disclaimer: See previous chapters. I'm lazy.

Chapter Three: Inside the twistedness of Snape.

A/N: you can all thank my teachers for boring me senseless through the first week of classes for this story.  Enjoy!

­­­­­­­

Severus Snape smiled. When Severus smiled most people – out of pure survival instincts – ran as fast as they could in the opposite direction and then hid themselves in the deepest, dankest hole of the Earth until whatever holocaust had struck the world has passed. Albus Dumbledore, however, was not most people.

"Are you sure you would not like some tea, dear boy?" Of course Severus would take his tea. Then he would shove it down Albus's throat and strangle the infuriating old coot with his own beard.

"No, Headmaster," he bit out through grounded teeth. "I would not care for tea. Perhaps you could explain why you have called me here. I have a class in five minutes." Not that Severus would care in the slightest if his class – the whole student body actually – disappeared. However, if left alone, the brats would doubtless find a way to destroy the dungeons and likely the entire world.

"Oh, not to worry about your classes my dearest Severus. I'm sure Minerva will take excellent care of them."

"Minerva?"

"Why yes. She most kindly volunteered to help you out this afternoon while you are busy." Snape ignored the last part of that.

"You are letting Minerva McGonall – the Gryffindor Headmistress – a woman who barely passed potions when she was school girl, into my dungeon with my class?"

"Now Severus, I know how important the education of your students is to you and I assure you, while you are of course irreplaceable as our Potions Master, Minerva is more that qualified to take over your class for one or three class periods."

"One or three classes, Headmaster? I wasn't aware I had so many plans this afternoon" Snape growled politely.

"Hmmm, yes well that depends on you dear boy. These things have a way of changing. I'm sure, for example, that young Neville Longbottom didn't intend to make such a hasty departure from your class this morning either."

Severus paused. Neville Longbottom. It was name Severus tried to avoid at all costs – it brought up far too many uncomfortable thoughts, which were growing stronger as Neville, no as _Longbottom_, grew older. Thoughts that as a snaky, evil git, and Neville's teacher Severus really shouldn't be having. After all Neville was a weak, foolish, emotional Gryffindor. There was absolutely no reason Severus should crave his smile or want to smother him in warm fuzzy hugs until that quite look of despair and every dimming hope left this eyes. Wait, warm fuzzy hugs? Severus groaned to himself. 'You're going soft.' But still, there was something about Neville Longbottom. Severus should revile – he did revile him – for his emotional weaknesses and pathetic desire to please anybody.

'In reality, they should be working to please you, Neville,' Snape thought savagely. In all Severus's years of travel and life he had never met anyone as essentially pure as Neville was. Admittedly most of the places Severus had been to had been created, filled, or corrupted by the Darkness, but that just made Neville's bright soul stand out to Severus's eyes all the more. And that was also one of the reasons Severus could never think of Neville in any terms of affection. Such a bright, beautiful person would never be able to stand being around the darkness and shadow that surrounded Severus Snape. Either Neville would eventually leave him or Neville's own incandescent light would slowly die and turn a solid gray after constant exposure to Severus's demons. Either fate made Severus's stomach clench with dread.

And, besides all that, Neville was still a Hogwarts student. Severus had precious few morals left but those he still did abide by included not raping his students. It didn't matter that it was taking all of Severus's coldness, both natural and assumed, to keep his feelings for Neville at bay. It didn't matter that, of later years, Severus was kept awake at night by visions of Neville whimpering in need into Severus's kiss or even of he and Neville having a simple, domesticated dinner. Severus was a teacher and Neville was his sixteen years old (and thus still under-aged) student. End of story.

And even if Neville was of age, and no longer Severus's student it was still be ludicrous to imagine such things.

'You two would never work,' he told himself. 'You shouldn't even want it to work! You are a cold, mean, and a sarcastic bastard and you like yourself like that! You are not going to change … and you couldn't bear the thought of Neville changing, so stop daydreaming like some hormone driven teenager! … Right now! Yes, no more thinking of Neville laughing, smiling, moaning with … No! Stop it right now!'

"Ah, Severus?" Albus questioned gently. "You're growling. Would you care for a lemon drop?" Albus looked hopefully into the icy glare Severus treated him to. This settled it: the old man had finally gone off his rocker. In ten years, Severus had never once accepted one of Albus's lemon drops. Albus Dumbledore, leading light of the wizarding world, was bonkers.

"I'll take your answer as a no," Albus continued sadly. "However, we were talking about young Neville – although I should begin calling him Mr. Longbottom, you know. He is coming of legal age in three days time."

Severus stopped breathing for a moment. Actually, he hadn't known. Not that it would make any difference. Just because Neville would, in three days time, be legally an adult did not make a bit of difference to Severus. It didn't.

"… your unique way of showing affection for your students…" Severus had forgotten Albus was still speaking. Did the man ever shut up? " … but really, dear boy, sending a student running in tears from your classroom is perhaps a bit much." The Headmaster fixed Severus with a steely look, filling him with a guilt Severus refused to be drawn into. Glare all Albus liked, Severus would not feel guilty, and he most definitely would not discuss Neville Longbottom with him .Senile or not, the old fool was far too perceptive for Severus's own good. It was best to swiftly steer the conversation away from the subject of Neville.

"It is not my fault the brat has too much sensibility for his own good! He'll never survive if he doesn't wake up and learn that life isn't a fairytale!" Severus exploded.

"Oh, I think Mr. Longbottom has quite a better grip on reality that many might suppose. Although, life can sometimes be far more of a fairytale than those same people might know. It is all in how you perceive things. And if you ask me," Severus hadn't asked him, but the wink Albus through him was unsettling enough for him not to comment, "if life were such a fairytale, you would make a most excellent dark, brooding hero."

"… Excuse me, Headmaster?"

Albus popped a lemon drop into his mouth. "It's vastly romantic of course. Just the sort of thing I myself would get into, if I were but a century younger." He ate another lemon drop.

"What on earth are you talking about?" There was definitely something in those lemon drops, Severus decided.

"Why you and Mr. Longbottom of course. Just think of what a fairytale we have here. You the dark, brooding hero encased in a shroud of demons only a young bright sir can break through, dashing gallantly off to rescue young Neville (although he will only be young for three more days) from certain, unknown, and deadly peril."

Severus froze. Most of that speech was too typically Albus to bother analyzing, but two words had struck his mind with all the force of a hurricane.

"Neville? Peril? What are you talking about Albus?"

"Oh, have you not heard? Mr. Longbottom has been missing since running from your classroom. That was why I called you to see me in the first place. I thought that maybe you would have a better chance of finding him than any of the teachers. A portrait just reported, you see, that Mr. Longbottom had been seen entering the dark hallways."

"What?! The dark hallways! Are you mad, letting a child wander around there? We still don't know what traps Salazar left!" The dark hallways were the alleged (no one knew for sure because on one had ever fully traversed them) pathway to the private room of Salazar Slytherin and were heavily guarded with traps and spells. "He'll be killed down there. I wouldn't even send an accomplished Slytherin near the entrance, much less an idiot Gryffindor!" Standing so fast he knocked the chair to the floor, Snape strode over to Albus's fireplace and tossed in some Floo Powder.

"Severus, what are you doing?" requested Albus anxiously. Rarely did Severus show this much emotion.

"To rescue the brat of course!" with that he shouted, 'Salazar's Hallways' and disappeared into the flames.


	4. So Good

Don't panic, Neville. Just stay calm, the more you struggle the faster it will kill you. Oh, shit – KILL you! Not a good thought, not a good thought, not a good thought. Relax! Don't panic. No panicking.

"HELP!" Neville screamed in absolute panic as the plants oily vines gripped his body even tighter.

"Help, I've lost my wand and I can't breathe!" Vines were grabbing at his hands, his throat, his thighs. He couldn't breathe! He was going to die and he'd never even told Severus how much he loved him! Black sots danced in front of his eyes; there was a loud buzzing in his ear. His lungs burned – he needed oxygen. But no rescue came. With agonizing slowness Neville felt his life being choked out of him. His eyes fluttered closed.

"Incendo!" A harsh-grating-beautiful-wonderful-snarky-growly-shivery-voice ripped into Neville fading consciousness. Bright face swirled into Neville vision as he was abruptly thrown to the ground, the Devils Snare shrieking in pain.

Neville could feel the cold stone floor burning into his body as he lay gasping for breath. Before he had time to even register he was alive, Neville was caught up in a strong grip and found himself staring into the fathomless eyes of his beloved.

"You blithering idiot boy!" Severus seethed. "What is Salazar's bloody name were you doing down here! You cold have been killed!" Severus increased his grip on Neville's shoulders. His heart was still pounding with fury at seeing Neville laying limp in the Devil's Snares tendrils – his beautiful eyes drifting closed.

"You idiot boy" he screamed again. At this moment Severus didn't care if the boy was a bumbling Gryffindor or if he himself was undeserving of love. If Neville had died, Severus would have … shit, just seeing the boy in danger had caused the heart he wasn't supposed to have stop beating. Fuck.

Neville slumped to the floor again as Severus grip slackened but barely had time to gasp before he was pulled against the potions masters' hard chest.

"You idiot, idiot boy," Severus continued to whisper brokenly, softly cradling Neville in his arms. Neville wasn't really sure what was going on. First he was nearly strangled to death, then his beloved teacher had come running out of the blue, first he was angry and now, now – Neville timidly tucked his head into the crook of Severus's neck. He had never been held so gently before. It was as if Severus really cared what happened to him, as if he had been worried. Knowing that it wouldn't last long, Neville inhaled Severus's scent, imaging that his fantasizes were the truth.

Slowly the hands wrapped around Neville's shoulders drifted to his back and began rubbing light circles; Neville could hear Severus's heartbeat calming against his chest. They lay there like that for unknown time.

Sighing Neville tried burying his head even further in Severus's neck, relishing how the hands hug him tighter in response. Oh sweet Merlin, this felt so good. Neville was not used to being held – his Gran would have sent him on his way with a blistering lecture by now. But Severus was holding him, comforting him … and he was so warm. In fact Neville was getting hot. His breath hitched as Neville became truly aware of where he was. In his potions masters lap. Cuddling. He was so close – he had never been this close to Severus before. He could feel Severus's breath ghost over his ear. Oh fuck, he was in heaven, he was … so good. Neville barely repressed a moan as the hands trailing over his back ignited little flames all over his body. It was so good to be treated so gently so good … Neville froze. Oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no. Stupid hormonal body ! This was not good not good not good. Maybe Severus hadn't noticed. Maybe – the hands stopped.

"Mr. Longbottom," Snape's snaky voice bit out, "that had better be your wand."


End file.
